


What's In The Cake?

by Gerec



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Avengers Family, Charles You Slut, Crack, Humor, M/M, There are mutants but no X-Men, Timeline What Timeline, Tony and Emma and Charles are besties, steve is a smitten kitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 23:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10372179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: It's Tony's birthday and the team is having a party at the new Avengers Tower. Tony's best friend Emma Frost is there too, and along with Pepper have a special birthday present for their favorite genius millionaire playboy philanthropist - a giant birthday cake, complete with an absolutely gorgeous looking stripper.Steve Rogers finds himself just a little bit in love.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [widgenstain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/pseuds/widgenstain) in the [xmenrarepairs17](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs17) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> It's Tony's birthday, in comes a huge cake, out of it jumps one Charles Xavier. Hooting and hollering ensues and Steve _notices_ the hot nerd dancing in the star spangled briefs. Cue Tony introducing him to _Professor_ Charles Xavier. ("He's smart and unique, always had As in history, he probably knows the stuff better than you do, old man. And did you see what he just did with his hips? You won't be able to sit for two days but it's totally worth it!")

Like everything else owned by Tony Stark, the cake they roll out mid-way through the party is both a feat of engineering and an unabashed representation of the man’s ego. It’s a towering, five tiered, red and gold monstrosity that requires the efforts of three people to wheel to the center of the room - one Asgardian god (a boisterous Thor), one semi-retired Avenger (a wryly amused Clint) and one Hulk (or rather Bruce, smiling and relaxed with the big guy thankfully nowhere in sight).

“That’s…a really big cake,” Steve says, stating rather the obvious of course, and maybe a touch awed by the sheer _size_ of the damned thing. “I know there’s a lot of people here, but there’s no way we’re going to finish all that cake, even with Thor and his appetite.”

From behind the bar, Natasha grins at him, small and sly, sliding another beer his way as the crowd erupts in raucous cheers. “The cake’s not for eating, Steve.”

Beside him, Sam chuckles, shaking his head. “No. Definitely _not_ for eating.”

He’s clearly missing something, and is about to ask if it’s a ‘Tony Stark thing’, or a ‘twenty first century thing’ when Tony’s voice – breathless and giddy – cuts through the buzz of excited murmurs with a loud hoot.

“Emma, my queen, my sister from a different mother…is this what I think it is? Oh please, tell me this is what I think it is!”

The aforementioned Emma is of course Emma Frost, CEO of Frost Technologies and a formidable telepath, currently holding centre court at Tony’s surprise birthday party. She is stunningly beautiful, in a somewhat cold and imperious way, but her expression always warms significantly when it’s directed at Tony, a function of the two being best friends who apparently go way, way back.

That, and the shared childhood experience of being both filthy rich, and with distant and disinterested parents.

“And what do _you_ think it is?” Emma teases, and Tony looks about two seconds away from jumping up and down, or perhaps throwing himself bodily at the giant cake. “It’s your birthday surprise from me of course, with help from our darling Pepper. We had it made _especially_ for you, and flew it all the way in from Oxford.”

Steve really doesn’t get it, though everyone else (except for perhaps Thor, and maybe Bruce who looks a little baffled by all the fuss) seems to be in on the private joke. Why on earth would she have the cake made in _England_ , instead of here in New York? Surely, there are people here who could have handled the custom order, and made an equally oversized and gaudy looking cake? And they wouldn’t have had to fly the damned thing all the way across the Atlantic?

“Just watch,” Natasha says, as Tony throws his arms around a pleased Emma and kisses her soundly on the lips, before doing the same with his perpetually indulgent girlfriend. “It’s what’s _in_ the cake that’s got Tony so flustered.”

The words ‘what’s in the cake’ are on the tip of Steve’s tongue, his curiosity peaked by Tony’s reaction when suddenly, the music stops abruptly and the lights on the entire floor go dark. The party goers – assorted friends, family and Sam’s bunch from the veterans’ center – hushes expectantly, and then the pulsing beat of a new song starts up and a spotlight falls hot and bright, right on top of the oversized confection.

“Oo, bold choice,” Natasha murmurs, sounding much too amused when the lid pops abruptly off the highest tier, and someone – a man – bursts into view with a dramatic flourish, tossing sparkling confetti in all directions and blowing exaggerated kisses to the adoring crowd.

And Tony is _beyond_ delighted, his entire face transformed into one of pure joy and unadulterated glee; in fact, Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen that particular expression on Stark’s face before, more familiar with his smug looks and mock apathy. And it’s no wonder because the man (stripper?) is _fucking_ _gorgeous_ , soft brown curls and lips so red Steve can see them from clear across the room, his perfectly luscious ass in a pair of skin-tight, stars and stripes spandex shorts that leave absolutely _nothing_ to the imagination.

_There’s things that you guess, and things that you know_

_There’s boys you can trust, and girls that you don’t_

“Careful there, Rogers, you’re starting to drool,” Sam says, which gets a chuckle out of Romanov, prompting her to come out from behind the bar and flank Steve on the other side. “You look like you’re about to short a few circuits there.”

“Fuck off, Wilson,” he answers placidly, taking a swig of his beer, watching avidly as the man steps gingerly off the top of the cake, and throws himself right into Thor’s waiting arms. It’s a move that gets a roar of approval from the crowd, and garners a kiss on the cheek for Thor, who happily sets the man on his feet, and right into the arms of an eager Stark.

_I swear I won’t tease you, won’t tell you no lies_

_I don’t need no bible just look in my eyes_

The reunion – and Steve assumes the man is someone Stark knows, considering how much naked skin he’s currently grabbing onto with both hands – includes a sloppy, open mouthed kiss and then a full body hug that has Tony picking the stripper up and spinning him around in wide circles.

“He seems to like his present,” Steve says mildly, which garners an all too knowing look from Natasha, and a wide grin from Sam. “Awfully open-minded of Pepper to help set this up, don’t you think? Getting Tony a stripper for his birthday?”

Sam snorts, almost choking on his beer, but Natasha just smiles, a wicked gleam in her eye as she nudges him with her elbow. “It’s not the first time Charles has done this for Tony’s birthday. I hear it’s a bit of a tradition.”

A tradition that is getting more X-rated by the second, judging by the way ‘Charles’ is grinding up against Tony now, rubbing body parts – all very nicely toned and shiny, decorated in glitter – in exceptionally interesting and provocative ways.

Steve coughs, and has to take another long drink from his bottle.

_I want your sex_

_I want your love_

_I want your sex_

_I want your…sex_

Someone – Rhodey maybe, it’s hard to see with everyone crowding around the main attraction – brings over a chair for the birthday boy, and the stripper (Charles, his name is _Charles_ ) promptly shoves Stark down and hops on top of him with almost cat-like grace, straddling his lap like a very clingy, very _sexy_ octopus. It’s obvious to Steve and everyone else present that neither of the men have any reservations about having an audience, and proceed to reacquaint themselves rather thoroughly. Back and forth. Side to side.

Upside down?  

And good lord he’s not sure how the man is capable of bending and twisting his body like _that;_ Steve’s not sure _he_ could do it and he’s Captain fucking America.

The next four or so minutes are some of the wildest, filthiest dancing that he’s ever seen, and Steve finds that he can’t stop staring at all that _flushed_ and _exposed_ skin _._ It’s time to make that long delayed trip to Church soon he thinks, on account of the very dirty things he’s imagining himself doing to the hot stripper in his head.

“Man, _I’m_ feeling dirty, and I’m sitting all the way over _here,_ ” Sam groans, and Natasha laughs, patting him on the shoulder and leaning to whisper something in his ear. Steve ignores them, his eyes following the sinuous line of Charles’ hips as he grinds slowly up and down on Tony’s lap, smiling teasingly as Tony grabs two handfuls of pert ass like his life fucking depends on it. And all the while Emma and Pepper and the rest of their friends are all hooting and clapping and cheering them on, and Steve just _does not get_ how they’re all just perfectly fine with the stripper basically dry humping Stark right there in the middle of his multi-level living room floor.

When the dance finally ends (much too soon if he’s being honest), Tony and his chair have somehow ended up tipped over onto his back, with Charles straddling his shoulders. Unexpectedly, Steve gets a sudden flash of what it looks like from Tony’s point of view; of those thick thighs braced on either side of his head, and the bulge in those tiny, skin tight shorts so close he just has to move his head up slightly and—

“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head; the beer doesn’t really do anything, but maybe Thor’s ‘special brew’ is finally kicking in.

Speaking of Thor, he’s currently helping Charles up and onto his feet, while Bruce leans over to offer Tony a hand up off the floor. There is much cheering and loud whistling as Charles takes a series of exaggerated bows, reveling in the applause, before Emma steps forward and pulls the man into her arms, followed by Tony wrapping himself around them both in a tight three-way embrace.

It’s an unexpected – and bizarre – moment of tenderness, considering the overt sexuality on display mere moments before.

He turns away from the scene to find Natasha and Sam both staring at him, grinning mischievously as he takes another drink.

“What?”

“You should ask him out. You know you want to.”

“Yeah,” Sam adds, “Time to get back in the saddle big guy.”

“I don’t--” he starts, but then he changes his mind – no use trying to feign disinterest around the two of _them_ , since it’s obvious they’ve got his number regarding the stripper, no _Charles_ – “what would I even say to him? ‘Hey, I really liked the way you were grinding all over Stark? Care to take it someplace just you and me?’”

Sam spits out the mouthful of beer he was in the process of swallowing, half laughing and half coughing as Nat chuckles around her martini. “Maybe not that. Something a little less…direct. Ask him what his interests are! Better yet, ask him out on a date!”

Steve grimaces. “Isn’t that a little awkward? I mean, he’s working tonight; do you really think it’s alright to ask him out? Isn’t there some kind of rule about dating your clients? Or your client’s friends?”

“Why not offer him a drink, and then just have a conversation?” Natasha suggests, reaching behind the counter and grabbing a bottle of (very) expensive Glenfiddich Single Malt. She pours a double and hands the glass to Steve, turning him around just as Charles – now dressed in a light blue button up and tight khaki pants – and Tony make their way over to the bar.

“Hey Cap, Romanoff, Wilson, come meet Charles,” Tony says nudging his companion closer to Steve and the others before he ducks behind the bar. “Charlie, pick your poison, what’ll it be?”

“Scotch, make it a double pl—“ Charles answers, words faltering even as his face lights up when Steve offers him the glass from Natasha. “Oh, how did you know? Tony didn’t tell me that Captain Rogers was a psychic.”

The words are playful and light, delivered with a brilliant smile, and Steven Grant Rogers doesn’t think he’s met anyone – possibly _ever_ – with such an effortless and easy charm.

“I’m sorry I can’t take the credit for your drink; that would be Natasha here, who knows everything about…well everything,” he jokes, which garners a laugh from the group. “Steve Rogers,” he says, offering his hand for Charles to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Captain,” Charles answers, and he proceeds to shake hands with Natasha and Sam too, as Tony comes out from the bar with his own Scotch in hand. “Ms. Romanov, Mr. Wilson. Tony has told me so much about all of you; I feel as though we’ve already met.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all very important. Heroes, saving the world from scary aliens,” Tony interrupts, before Steve or any of the others can get a word in edgewise. “We don’t care about any of that. _I_ want to know if you’re finally coming home for good. You’ve been gone _forever_ , Charles; the Queen’s had you for long enough.”

Charles laughs. “I’m sorry for Tony; he’s still as impatient now as he was at six years old. Some things never change.” To Tony, he adds, “Yes darling, I’m back for good.”

This declaration leads to a squeal of delight from Stark, who dips Charles until he’s almost completely horizontal, planting another wet kiss on the man while the others watch with faint bemusement.

“Yes! Because I was _this_ close to grabbing the jet and flying over to drag your sexy little butt home. Wait where are you going to live? Don’t tell me Westchester, that old dump…you have to live here! You can stay with me and Pepper, or wait, I’ve got room actually; I can give you your own floor.”

“I don’t want to impose—"

“Impose? Did you hit your head? Were you drinking inside the cake? What do you mean, _impose_? I don’t want to hear that crap out of you, do you hear me? You’ll stay here, so Emma and I can see you whenever we want. Also you’ll be closer to work. You probably need equipment right? I can build you everything you need, state of the art--”

‘Equipment’, is what Steve actually hears and also, ‘state of the art’. This leads to rather embarrassing images of a shiny new stripper pole, as well as all sorts of tight leather outfits and sundry related ‘contraptions’ flashing like giant neon lights in his head.

All courtesy of course, to Tony’s ‘introduction to the internet’ packet that had included quite a good portion of pornography and sex toys, along with restaurant reviews, a detailed map of his Brooklyn neighbourhood and highlights of important twentieth century events.

Charles turns rather abruptly to look at Steve then, his head tilted slightly to the side as a smile slowly curves across his lips. His intent gaze makes Steve feel a bit stripped bare himself, as though his attraction is suddenly being broadcast loud and clear to the entire room.  

“So, are you looking for a job?” he manages, after Tony finally stops rambling about ‘McCoy’ and ‘partner’ and ‘back to work’. “I mean, now that you’re staying here in New York.”

Charles grins at him again, but this time, there’s a hint of mischief in his smile and an amused glint in his eye. “Oh yes, I like to keep busy. Wouldn’t want to sit around all day and let this body get rusty.”

Tony rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Charles couldn’t stay still if he tried. Watch, he’ll be back at it again within the week. Actually, are you planning to take over for Jean? Or is she going to keep running things for you at Xavier Corp?”

“Wait…did you say, ‘Xavier Corp’? Where have I heard that name before?”

“Oh, didn’t Tony tell you?” Natasha quips, flashing a brilliant smile at the entire group. “Charles is Charles _Xavier_ , majority shareholder of his family business Xavier Corporation, one of the largest research and pharmaceutical companies in the world.”

Sam starts to laugh, and Steve wants the floor to open up immediately and swallow him whole. Luckily, Tony (and Charles) appear oblivious to his erroneous assumptions at least, and Sam and Natasha seem content to watch him squirm with embarrassment, versus outing him to the others.

“Yeah, Charles is _brilliant_ —”

“Tony, please stop.”

“—and did you know he’s got like three PhDs already, and he’s working on a fourth? He’s the world’s leading expert on genetic mutations, and he’s also a—”

“Tony, I’m sure Captain Rogers doesn’t want to hear you go on and on about my work.”

“But I do,” Steve interjects quickly, and this draws another gorgeous smile pointed his way. “I mean, I’d love to hear more about your work on mutations. If you don’t mind.”

There’s a couple of beats of complete silence and then--

“Hey Tony,” Sam says. “Weren’t you going to show me some of the upgrades you’ve made for my suit?”

“Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea,” Natasha agrees, looping her arm through Tony’s and guiding him away, Sam at their heels, before turning to give Steve a quick wink. “We’ll go do _that_ , and you can keep Charles company ‘til we get back.”

They watch as Natasha leads the other two towards Clint, Thor and Bruce, before turning their attention back to each other, and taking a slow sip of their respective drinks. Charles leans closer, and Steve shifts to meet him, until the two of them are standing side by side, brushing their elbows together on the counter facing the bar.

“You should know, Captain—”

“Steve, please.”

“Steve,” Charles repeats with a soft smile, pressing just a little closer again as he continues, “I should probably confess that I’m a telepath like my darling Emma. And though I don’t make it a habit of reading other people’s minds, I couldn’t help but overhear your rather loud thoughts just now. About what you thought I did for a living.”

To say that he’s mortified would be an understatement; Steve flushes red, backing away slowly as Charles turns to face him. “I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have assumed that—”

Charles immediately closes the distance between them with a low chuckle, and presses a finger against Steve’s lips. “I also couldn’t help but notice your _interest_ in, well me,” he adds.

“Again, _so_ sorry about that. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable, I would never—”

 _Actually, I wanted to tell you that the feeling was definitely mutual_ , a voice says – Charles’ voice – in his head, which stops him dead in his tracks. _We could take this elsewhere and…chat. What do you say?_

 _Really?_ Steve answers in his head, and he has no idea if he’s doing it right, and if Charles can hear him but, well… _Fuck yeah._

 _Good,_ Charles says, taking Steve by the hand. _If all goes well with our_ talk _…perhaps I could also interest you in a private show?_

“He thought _what_?”

Tony’s shout cuts through their private banter from half way across the room, as do the loud guffaws of his so called friends and comrades in arms. Steve would be pissed at the lot of them if they weren’t being completely predictable…

…and if Steve himself wouldn’t be laughing too if it had happened to one of them.

Still… _assholes_.

Charles grins. “Now they’re making bets on whether or not you’re going to mess things up. Your friend Sam and that lovely Thor are betting in your favor, while the Lieutenant Colonel and Dr. Banner think I’ll leave as soon as I find out about the little stripper misunderstanding.”

Steve sighs, and takes another sip from his beer. “Great. What do Clint and Natasha think?”

“Oh I like Ms. Romanoff too much to violate her privacy and read her thoughts…but you should know that she’s abstaining from the bet, and Mr. Barton is wisely following her example.”

“And Tony?” Steve asks, because he’s actually kind of curious what Stark thinks about his chances with Charles, whom he obviously knows quite well. “What does Stark have to say about all this?”

Charles presses an image at him, of what Tony thinks SHOULD be happening between the two of them, knowing Charles’ tendencies – apparently – to throw himself at men he finds incredibly handsome and interesting. At least that _would_ be the case, Stark thinks, if he didn’t believe Steve to be a boring and overgrown boy scout. It makes him laugh, and along with Charles’ smirk and the ‘ _what do you think, shall we give them a show?’_ that Charles says conspiratorially in his head–

Steve picks Charles up easily and throws him over his shoulder, and promptly marches past his friends with his date – _yes darling, date works_ , Charles agrees – ignoring them as they hoot and holler and generally make a scene. Charles just laughs and blows kisses at Tony on their way out the door, and it’s the most fun Steve’s had in…well since he woke up in the twenty first century really.

 _Oh darling_ , Charles whispers, hopping down and pushing Steve against the wall, pressing their lips together in a bruising kiss as soon as they exit the room and round the corner, _the fun’s just getting started._


End file.
